astity, obedience, indolent solitude, which had
for centuries been glorified by the Church, were monstrous to this
vehement and energetic spirit. The church had placed heroism in
effacement. Diderot, borne to the other extreme, left out even
discipline. To turn from his maxims on the foundation of conduct, to his
maxims on opinion. As we have said, his attitude is that of the
sceptic:--

What has never been put in question, has not been proved. What people
have not examined without prepossessions, they have not examined
thoroughly. Scepticism is the touchstone. (Sec. 31.)

Incredulity is sometimes the vice of a fool, and credulity the defect of
a man of intelligence. The latter sees far into the immensity of the
Possible; the former scarcely sees anything possible beyond the Actual.
Perhaps this is what produces the timidity of the one, and the temerity
of the other.

A demi-scepticism is the mark of a feeble understanding. It reveals a
pusillanimous reasoner, who suffers himself to be alarmed by
consequences; a superstitious creature, who thinks he is honouring God
by the fetters which he imposes on his reason; a kind of unbeliever who
is afraid of unmasking himself to himself. For if truth has nothing to
lose by examination, as is the demi-sceptic's conviction, what does he
think in the bottom of his heart of those privileged notions which he
fears to sound, and which are placed in one of the recesses of his
brain, as in a sanctuary to which he dares not draw nigh? (Sec. 34.)

Scepticism does not suit everybody. It supposes profound and impartial
examination. He who doubts because he does not know the grounds of
credibility, is no better than an ignoramus. The true sceptic has
counted and weighed the reasons. But it is no light matter to weigh
arguments. Who of us knows their value with any nicety? Every mind has
its own telescope. An objection that disappears in your eyes, is a
colossus in mine: you find an argument trivial that to me is
overwhelming.... If then it is so difficult to weigh reasons, and if
there are no questions which have not two sides, and nearly always in
equal measure, how come we to decide with such rapidity? (Sec. 24.)

When the pious cry out against scepticism, it seems to me that they do
not understand their own interest, or else that they are inconsistent.
If it is certain that a true faith to be embraced, and a false faith to
be abandoned, need only to be thoroughly known, then surely i